


a friendly arrangement

by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Other, hux and phasma are gay you guys are just cowards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:33:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/hipgrab
Summary: Hux and Phasma are very gay, but everyone keeps saying they'd make "the perfect couple". They decide to see if their biology thinks so too. Spoiler alert: it doesn't.





	a friendly arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure and utter silliness. I think Hux and Phasma are very gay and I don't really understand the ship so I decided to make this. Please enjoy. Or, like our protags, don't enjoy.

Hux is wearing silk pajamas and a velvet robe when Phasma comes into his chambers. He nods stiffly.

“Brandy?”

“Please.”

He inclines his head, heading to the bar and pouring the drink into a crystal glass. He and Phasma sip their drinks for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“Well,” she sighs at last. “I suppose we should try and get this over with.”

“Yes,” he says with an air of equal resignation. “I suppose we should.” 

He leads her to the bed, which is made up with perfect military precision. They eye each other for a moment.

“Should we...undress each other?” he asks uncertainly.

“I prefer to undress myself,” Phasma says in her politest tone. 

Hux seems relieved. “Yes, quite so.” 

They slowly undress, neatly folding up their clothes until they’re both quite naked. Neither seems particularly pleased about it. 

“So...who should be on top?” Hux asks. 

“I prefer to be on top,” Phasma says. “But I think, under the circumstances...perhaps you should be.”

Hux’s jaw works, torn between being offended that she would imply he’s too scrawny to be on the bottom and relieved that she won’t be on top of him. 

“Very well,” he says at last. “Shall we...begin?”

“Would you care for any foreplay?” she asks. “Or should we take care of ourselves?”

“Erm...perhaps we should try foreplay,” he suggests. “Just...to get the full experience.” 

“Very well.”

They climb on the bed from opposite sides, arranging themselves under the covers until they’re sitting ramrod straight, legs barely touching. 

“Shall I…?”

“Oh...yes.”

Phasma reaches over to grip his penis--rather tightly. They both look revolted at the act, but Phasma dutifully works her hand up and down his length for several agonizing minutes. 

“Perhaps,” Hux says with a grimace, “we should take care of ourselves.”

“Good idea,” Phasma says with palpable relief. She withdraws her hand and uses the other to begin stimulating herself while Hux takes over on his dick. They work themselves up to a doable (if not very enthusiastic) state and then, with a businesslike nod, proceed. Phasma reclines against the pillows, wincing as Hux’s bony limbs clamber atop her. He strokes himself several more times before aiming for her slit and pushing.

And pushing.

And pushing. 

“Phasma,” Hux says through gritted teeth. “You’re as impossible to penetrate as one of our shields.” 

“I apologize--I’m not used to...this,” she says stiffly. By “this”, she means being a bottom while a man tries to put his penis inside her. She reaches down to rub her clit. “All right...try it now.”

“You’re dry as Tatooine,” he mutters, but he finally manages to get...mostly inside her. 

Phasma tries to restrain her revulsion, but a muttered “ugh” passes between her lips. Hux, luckily, doesn’t seem to hear it; his face is screwed up in concentration. Phasma lies still as he tries thrusting, but the effort seems too much for him.

“It’s just...normally, I don’t...well, I’ve  _ never _ …” He clears his throat.  “Perhaps...if you were on all fours?”

Phasma looks dubious at the idea. “Perhaps…”

“How do you normally...do it?” he asks with no small amount of trepidation. 

“I eat her out until she’s reduced to tears and then I get myself off. How do  _ you _ do it?” 

“I’m a bottom, and not a kinky one,” he says.

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps we should stop.”

“Oh, yes, let’s,” he says with deep relief, scrambling off of her. They sit up, pulling the sheets up around their bodies.

“Well, we tried it,” she says.

“Right.”

“And it didn’t work out.”

“ _ Too _ right.” 

“Shall we spring a surprise drill on the new recruits?”

“Oh, I  _ love _ the way you think.” 


End file.
